


Galenas

by chan_bi



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Conversations, M/M, Medicinal Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-06-07 21:24:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6824902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chan_bi/pseuds/chan_bi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the Maroon camp, Silver refused opium for the pain because he was worried he would let loose his secrets while high. But what if they gave it to him while he was recovering in Flint cabin?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [prouvaireafterdark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prouvaireafterdark/pseuds/prouvaireafterdark) in the [pirate_prompts_2016](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/pirate_prompts_2016) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> At the Maroon camp, Silver refused opium for the pain because he was worried he would let loose his secrets while high (and also appear weak, but I'm running with the secret spilling thing). 
> 
> I'd like to see something where he did just that in Flint's cabin on the ship. Not about the gold, but about his feelings for Flint. Maybe he knows Flint is there or he doesn't and he's talking to himself, but Flint hears what Silver thinks about him and thinks about that while Silver recovers.
> 
> Bonus points if Flint confronts Silver about it later when he's no longer high/recovering and they talk about it, and even more bonus points if it leads to angsty mutual confessions of attraction. Maybe they hook up, maybe they don't, it's up to you!
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks to Daisy, always helping me  
> English is so not my first language, so if you find some mistakes tell me and I'll try to fix them  
> 

Five days had passed since the events of Charles Town and the Walrus' crew was only beginning to comprehend the full range of consequences that day had brought to their lives and how their future was bound to be drastically changing over the next few weeks. All the men kept identifying as members of the Walrus, but they weren't sailing with her anymore; she was still ashore, wrecked near Division Bay.

Since returning aboard Flint had spent most of the time in his cabin, alone, with only his demons and his bottle to keep him company, listening to the noises of erratic breathing and painful whimpers coming from the feverish man sleeping on the window seat.

Howell had decided to keep Silver under a substantial dose of opium for at least the first week of his recovery, to make sure that he could sleep off the worst part of it.

When they had set sails from what was left of Charles Town, Flint, aching to be left alone with his grief, had headed straight to his cabin, only to find the place trashed and full of bodies. Watching the gruesome scene laying before his eyes ‘This is fitting’ had been his only thought. Billy entered a moment too late to warn him about the state of the place and give him some kind of explanation.

“Silver.” He had said, pointing for some reason to the table on his right with his chin. ”They took him from our group of prisoners, to bring him here. We tried to stop them at first. During the chaos that sneaky bastard managed to steal the key of our chains from one of them and leave it to us as they brought him here.” Flint almost smiled at that. ”We still don’t know why they took him, but after a few minutes, while we were still discussing when to begin our countermove, we started hearing his screams. We just couldn’t wait after that, we moved immediately. They had him on that table.” Flint could see large stains of blood on one end of it. “He is with Howell, I don’t know how he is, I think it’s one of his legs, not sure how serious though. I was about to go see, but I thought I ought to inform you first.”

It had turned out to be very serious.

 

Now, five days later, Flint was finally returning in his cabin after leaving it for the first time for more than a few minutes. He had spent the last several hours with Vane, discussing possible future plans regarding Nassau and how to defend it from the British retaliations that were surely going to happen now that they didn’t have any funds nor a fort.

He walked across the bridge, aware of the enthusiasm radiating from the men surrounding him. The crew had voted for their new Quartermaster that same morning, choosing John Silver almost unanimously.  
The choice had been vastly consensual, to the point where Mr. Scott had voted against himself, announcing his intentions to remain in Nassau and retire once arrived. Surprisingly Billy had voted for Silver too, the most distrustful person of the crew had voted for the well known thief, probably because he didn't want to distance himself from his brothers' decision, Flint wasn't sure.

He opened the cabin's door expecting to find Silver sleeping under Billy watchful eye, as he had left them. Billy was indeed by his side, but the other man was awake for the first time. Billy had a cup raised to Silver lips, and was quietly saying something to him that Flint couldn’t hear.  
Silver didn’t seem to be able to do anything other than to listen to him and fight to stay awake; he wasn’t even trying to sit up a little while drinking or even raise the cup himself.

When Billy noticed the captain's entrance in the room he abruptly stopped talking and stood up. 

“He woke up about ten minutes ago.” He said as he approached him and handed him the cup now empty. "But he is not really coherent. I’m not sure he is fully awake. He seemed to understand me, but he hasn’t tried to speak yet other than to ask for some water.”  
With that he excused himself from the room.

Flint removed his coat, walked to his desk, and took the half empty bottle that sat on it, filling the cup in his hand and immediately emptying it, three times, then he went to sit on the chair left empty by Billy, fully aware of the two blue eyes following his every action from the window seat. Billy had been right, his gaze was glassy and distant, a far cry from the calculating eyes that Flint had come to associate with Silver. It was almost painful to watch and Flint diverted his eyes, choosing to stare out the open window instead, to look at the ocean.  
They lingered like that for a while.

“You know, Billy told me something.”

Flint turned to him, Silver was still watching him, his eyes still a little out of focus, blankly staring at a point a few feet behind Flint's head.

“Yes… He told me, he told me you destroyed an entire town with your fury” He was swallowing his words more than saying them. “There is nothing left. Charles Town had been razed to the ground. He said you gave the order to kill every last one of them.”

“Did he now?” Silver was clearly still high out of his mind from the dose of opium he took that morning, but he was nevertheless managing to start getting on Flint's nerves.

“He did. And I wanted to ask him why, what pushed you to the point of exterminating an entire community, to… to completely wipe out an entire town, slaughter every man, woman, and child in it.“

Flint had to take a few long breaths to calm down and keep himself from strangle his brand new quartermaster. 

“I don’t think I did though, I mean, I don't think I asked him, I don’t remember talking, but he answered so maybe I did. He told me about what you left behind, who.”

Flint set his jaw, if Silver wanted to talk about that day then Flint would satisfy him.

“What did Vane's quartermaster want from you?”

“She never came back, she was the one person closer to you in the world and they killed her, didn’t they?”

Then Silver started to laugh, in a weak off key way that made all of Flint's rage toward the man disappear and left him frozen. When he stopped he seemed to have spent all his energy because the next words were only just a whisper, barely audible over the rhythmic sound of the sea.

“They say that losing the person you love the most is like losing a limb.”

“Are you trying to compare our tragedies?”

“No, I’m trying to understand why I felt so good when Billy told me about yours.”

Everything seemed to stop. Flint couldn’t hear the sound of the waves anymore, nor the shouting of the men outside. He wasn’t even feeling anything, all he had was numbness. They stared at each other for a few minutes, Silver eyes still glassy, then everything came back.

“Go to sleep, Silver.” He said it like the warning that it was, but obviously Silver wasn’t coherent enough to catch that, or maybe he just didn't care.

“ When we were conquering this ship, and the Spanish caught us. They had us and gave us the choice between betray one another or die. I had that handful of gold and my life and I could have just left. I didn't, I stayed and fought." Flint snorted. "Well, alright, I didn't want to fight, and maybe I didn’t fight as good as you would have, but I did fight, didn't I? I didn't even have to think about it, and you know why? We were partners in the best way possible, we needed each other to achieve our ends. I needed you alive, because I needed to use you, as you me. That was it, if something had happened to me that day because I went back to help you I would have never resented you for it. It would have been my decision, based only on my strategy to succeed.“

“And what happened to you now is different, how? Because you didn't do it for a share of gold that you wanted?”

“It’s different because I didn’t just need you, you and the crew, I depended on you. They wanted ten names of the people most likely to help them sail away from battle, abandon all of you on land and kill whoever wasn’t helping. And I couldn't do it, even if you weren't useful to me, anymore. And when I said no and they used a fucking axe on my leg I still couldn't bring myself to say those names. I don’t think I could have said them even if I wanted to, or do anything but screaming incoherently, but that’s beside the point.”

“ So get to the point.”

“ I didn’t want them to die. He, he said I didn’t have real attachment to the crew and it tasted like a lie, wrong... I just couldn’t bring myself to let them die, even with the opportunity to save myself so open in front of me.”

Silver was softly shaking his head, disbelieved. His voice was becoming less and less strong, so Flint filled the cup he still had in his hands with the water on the cabinet by Silver's side, and brought it to the other man lips.

“ You resent me to the point of cherishing Miranda’s death because you believe I caused you to do something selfless for a change?” He asked while the other man was drinking. 

The answer was a bit louder, but the voice was still not right.

“ No, that’s the fact, I didn’t do it as an altruistic gesture, it was for me. I depend on them, on you, and I just didn’t want you all to die. I needed them alive. And now, like this, I can’t ever leave, I am and my reliance from... I can't leave anymore. And I’m destined to be one of your little soldiers, your little tools. And nothing mo... And it’s your fault. I am exactly where you wanted me to be. ”

Silver was looking at him like he was something monstrous, and something glorious, bright.

“You said you didn’t know why you were happy for my tragedy, you seem pretty sure to me.”

“Yes, this is the most safe assumption. But it’s not the only way I can interpret all of this. You see, I did start to depend on you, I couldn’t resist, and as much as I can resent you for that, that is something that I cannot change. But until now it wasn't the same for you. Maybe it will never be. But surely until now it wasn't a possibility. You had her. The Barlow woman would have always been that one person you depended on. And not me. I stayed after all that went down with the gold and it wasn’t the same for you because of her. And I couldn't stand it. Now, I am to assume that she was an intelligent woman, and, if you had that much consideration for her, I can presume she was something remarkable; but my feeling toward her may had been clouded by something close to envy.”

Flint couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The only sense he could make of these ramblings was a notion he couldn't bring himself to admit possible. And what a shame that the only time he could honestly believe a word that was coming out of Silver's mouth the moment was tainted by the fact that he couldn't enjoy hearing the usual wit behind those words, their usual eloquence.

“ So you are saying that you don’t know if you were happy for her death..” “Happy is the wrong word” “Satisfied?" "Better" "Satisfied on account of Miranda's death because of some kind of revenge toward me, you wanting me to suffer as much as you did, or because you were jealous of me and her?”

“I don’t really feel, let myself feel, strong emotions generally, so it’s really difficult for me to understand why I had such a strong reaction to an event that shouldn’t concern me that much. These are the only two valid options, in my opinion.”

“They are pretty different from each other. It shouldn’t be so hard to pinpoint the real one, maybe it’s the drugs...” At this point Flint wasn’t even angry anymore, just somewhat amused. Only minutes before, before this whole conversation started, the concept that such an emotion could still exist in him without neither one of the Hamiltons still on earth would have been absurd to him.

“You’d think so, right? I’m not that sure. What I know is that now I have to make a decision based on this.”

“You do? Of what kind?”

“I am to remain a member of your crew. That is certain, I can’t leave anymore. I… can’t. I can either resent you and antagonize you, if hate is what I’m really feeling, if an enemy is really how I see you, or try to become what she was to you, and what Mr Gates was, which maybe is the thing I’m really after. Be a partner to you in the way I never thought I’d be to anyone, I never thought I'd want to be to anyone.”

“You really can’t distinguish between hating someone and …?”  
He let his voice fade.

“ Hatred… Devotion… Desire… Strong emotions are strong emotions, and they are all really inconvenient. Never much cared for them.”

Silver eyes were fighting to stay open, he was likely starting to fall asleep. 

“If I discover I want to stay by your side, I’ll need a strategy, I’ll need a way to make you realize… and you must never know that I... or it’s over…”

His last words before giving up staying awake were really wobbly.

“ You know, I’m really glad that this is most likely a dream. These are not thoughts I'd want... This is absolutely not a conversation I would have wanted to have with the actual Flint.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me so long to write this, I'm sorry but I had the mumps so at least I have a good excuse. 
> 
> (spoiler: it will probably take me just as much for the last part even without awesome medical excuses, I'm already sorry in advance)
> 
> Oh well, enjoy

The Maroon camp was buzzing with a strange energy that evening.

After a won battle someone could think everything just becomes calm and slow, perfectly opposed to the fight itself, but Flint knew better.  
After a few minutes savouring the victory, everyone remembered that there were still many things to do. Wounded to transport to camp and look after, dead to count and take care of before diseases could occur, prisoners to collect, scouts to be sent to make sure the retreat of the enemy was final, and many more tasks to assign and decisions to be made.  
Everyone still had a job to be done, with the adrenaline still circulating strong through their veins.

After a while Flint stopped and leaned on a tree, a bottle in his hand, watching people move and talk and drag and cry in front of him. Sometimes someone stopped to ask him for new directions, he told most of them to just go rest for a while: they would need lookouts for the night, and the majority of men will not be able to do it if they all kept working sustained only by the rush of adrenaline that would soon drop.

“Dobbs is dead.”

Sometimes Flint thought about how many times he would have been surprised by the sudden appearance of Silver by his side if it weren’t for that peg leg (the noise of leaves trusting under it had been evident for five or six steps).  
Stealth had clearly been a truly valuable skill for him before and now was lost forever.  
He turned to see Silver leaning heavily on a tree a few feet away.

“I know.”

“I’ve killed my fair amount of people during my life, you know? For a lot of different reasons, some of them selfish… most of them, really. Some of them less so, like saving someone I wanted on my side, never something really righteous I admit. Until recently I’ve never killed without real reason, without knowing that the person in front of me was about to aim at me or someone on my side of some dispute or another. But I’ve never seen it in a rightful way. I’ve never killed in that way, the way I saw you do it countless times, but I’ve never put myself above it. I could not see myself do it, but not in a moral way, I just thought it wasn’t me, you understand what I’m saying?”  
He stopped talking, and looked at Flint expectantly, maybe to be sure he really understood, before finishing his thought. He wanted to be sure Flint knew that this descent in the Darkness™, however caused by their vicinity and probably wouldn’t have happened if not for it, wasn’t something that abnegate the Silver from before. So he nodded once and Silver continued.

“With Dufresne, I did it to make a point and also out of pure irrational anger. No one in danger, no real motive, I could have found a thousand other ways to win the crowd in that tavern, some of which I already had in my mind in that moment. We were, ultimately, just talking. I didn’t need to kill him, for any reason other that my will to. I never would have thought that something so raw, brute, could be that much satisfying.”

He took a deep breath, Flint was still watching him, but now Silver wasn’t sustaining his gaze, opting instead on facing the sky, that was quickly darkening.

He didn’t talk for a few minutes but Flint didn’t prompt him to continue, he was curious to see where he was heading. It had been fascinating watching Silver in the past few months. It felt like every moment, every second of every day, was a crucial part of a transformation that was happening before his eyes.

Miranda used to saw quilts after arriving in Nassau. She used to make patchwork with every piece of fabric imaginable, all colors and shapes and clothes. every time Flint would come home to her, he would find new parts added, Miranda goal for it a little more visible, but still not quite, until the day he’d come to find it finished, complete. The design finally clear, but all the pieces still discernible, he could recognize parts of it from when they had been added, maybe parts that didn’t make sense to him at the time they had been sewed, but at the end all necessary for the final result.  
Lately he could see Silver as a patchwork in progress. In constant growth, becoming something more, he was the quilt and the sewer both, he himself not knowing what the new experience would make him into. Flint couldn’t take his eyes from it, from him. He didn’t want to. If he distracted himself from it for a second he could have missed a new extraordinary addiction.

“ And now, knowing that I sent a man to his death, a man who accepted a nearly suicide task out of respect and fear of me,a man who I filled with shame in order to make him obey to my every request, I feel a weight I didn’t feel for any of my actual murders. The one time I wasn’t the one to strike the bow, shoot the bullet, is the time I feel wrong, after. I feel wrong.”

He turned to look at Flint again. And this was exactly it. Another turn, another change, another growth, a piece of cloth to be added until, hopefully, one day, Flint, and Silver, could finally see the final design. One of the things he selfishly enjoyed most was having the possibility to add himself a piece of fabric to the picture. To say something to him or show him something and have then the opportunity to see how it would transform to be integrated into the pattern, share parts of himself and see them reflected in him. To teach and see the assimilation of those lessons in the whole.

"I warned you about that.” 

Flint didn't expose any further. Silver had to think about that for a minute, trying to remember when something like that had happened.

“You said ‘The more they need you the more you need them’ ” Flint reached out to hand him the bottle he was enjoying, as if it was a sort of prize for answering correctly. Silver took it but didn’t drink from it before going on. “ So this why you don’t make yourself essential to the men? You make sure they know that you are the one thing they could use to reach their end. So you can use them. But you don't go any further than that. You’d have the charisma to be doing what I’m doing, make them want it, to be at your service. It's not that you aren’t doing it because you are not capable or it didn't occurred to you, it’s because you don’t want to need them. Need them well, need them alive.”  
He looked impressed, and wistful.

“You keep doing the mistake of giving me too much credit. My thoughts don’t spontaneously become a reality to be dealt with by us all and I am not always five steps ahead of you.”

“Maybe consciously you aren’t, but I see your point." He mumbled. "You know, one of the things that compelled me to steal the gold from you was a thought I had, very similar to one of those. I saw the Urca becoming more and more a problem for you during that ordeal about the fort with Vane and Hornigold. I expected you, in earnest, to be able to discard it. From one moment to the next, to just making it disappear, like you do with most of your obstacles. To just find a way to erase a massive treasure from existence from miles away.”He said it with a note of amusement in his voice, but still he sounded honest, not that he could really be sure with Silver.

Flint's mind wandered back to the time Silver revealed having taken the treasure from him, to how Silver had put all he had on the table, risking everything, in order to gain his respect. Flint had to admit he had been impressed, not only by the scheme to steal the gold from under his nose that he had been able to orchestrate in such short time, but also by how he had decided to come clean. He had used that truth, one that could have most likely had him killed, to his advantage. Telling it exactly at that time and in that way, he had given Flint all the power over it, but also all the responsibility for it.

Until that moment they had silently ignored the real problem. They had too much power, too much personality to coexist without being neither merging nor clashing, as they were till that moment. Silver had given Flint the burden of the choice, and also relived himself of the guilt of his past actions toward him.

But there was something that Silver didn't know. By doing so he had let Flint know the answer to a question.  
Flint was positive that Silver didn't remember the conversation they had right after Charlestown, when he was high out of his mind. He had confessed that he was developing strong feelings toward Flint, even if he wasn’t sure about the nature of them. It had been absolutely understandable, his inability to comprehend completely his feelings at the moment, considering not only the amount of drugs in his system, but also his state of mind due the trauma he was just waking up from.

Also understandable was that his first reaction after waking up one leg short, had been trying to blame someone, anyone who could be at least a little at fault. Obviously Flint too had blamed himself the misfortune, and someone else's pain and accusal was welcome to help him build up the guilt, make him remember it, so he wouldn't forget all the things lost that day, as fucked up as that may be.

The unexpected revelation of that drug inducted conversation had been Silver's acknowledgment and admission of a feeling somehow similar to envy that he had been directing toward Miranda and her relationship with Flint.

He had ended the conversation saying that he would be trying to figure out if he wished for revenge toward the man he held responsible of his pain or an opportunity to start a connection with someone who could understand said pain. Trying to understand If he was moved by hate or something entirely different, but equally strong.

In that rowboat Silver had involuntarily shared the answer to that question, a question he wasn’t aware Flint knew the existence of. By making him chose between being enemies or partners, killing him or accepting all his actions and theirs consequences and try to move forward, he had informed Flint that he, himself, had chose the latter.

“ If I were an insecure person, or I didn’t know you like I do, all the times you stop listening to me to stare at the void instead would make me think I’m tiresome, or that you are aging.”

Flint was brought back to the present, Silver was smirking at him, handing the bottle of liquor back to him.

“ Wishing a treasure miles away into disappearing, you really are prone to theatrics and exaggerations.”

“ You are the one to talk! Every action or event involving you has such an inherent amount of drama that I’m starting to think the Padstow you said you are from is actually in Peloponnese”

“Exaggerations, Mr Silver.” 

He just got an eye roll in response. 

“But to answer you question, no I didn’t purposely alienate myself form my crew as part of a bigger scheme. You know at what time in my life I started being a Captain. But I did use the situation at my best after I realized it was happening.”  
When did he stop to carefully ponder wether or not telling Silver the truth and started to simply answer his every question?

“You let Gates be the one who risked getting close to the crew, so you could keep a connection with one man only instead of an entire ship but still profit from their relationship to reach the goals you shared with him.”  
He frowned.  
“But something went wrong and he chose them over you at the end. Why doing it again and let yourself repeat that mistake with me?”

“Because I don’t think it will be a mistake this time. In fact you have already proven me that, in that very spot.” He vaguely pointed at the cage where they had been imprisoned, now crowded with English Navy captives, with the hand holding the bottle. 

“You had to make the same decision Gates had to."

"You killed him for that decision."

It was morbidly refreshing to hear it. Highlighting the fact that his death was his fault, a weight over his conscience he had now to endure for the rest of his life, and not referring to it as to some kind of unlucky event like nearly everyone had started to describe it. 

”I did."

"But you wouldn't have killed me." 

" And why would you say is that?" 

Silver looked at him like he had asked if he wanted to go for a run by the river.  
Then he half shrugged and answered.

“You didn’t have a goal set for yourself in the moment I made the decision. You were lost both times but the time with Gates you could still see the metaphorical door, his choice was to help you opening it or shut it completely, mine was to show it to you or leave you lost.” 

“So what would you had done if your case was the other?” 

“It depends, at the time of the chase of the Urca I think it's established I would have done almost anything to get the gold. I never would have come between you and it, unless you'd have refused to give me my share; which I still don’t know if you would have. But that doesn’t answer your question because back then we weren’t yet what we became and are now for each other. What you and Gates were.”

“So why are you digressing?”

“Because that’s what you want, isn’t it? I came here with the weight of what I did to a man who looked up to me, a man who I sacrificed for my cause, and you are reminding me how you actually killed a friend for it. You want to distract me from my guilt with your own. I just thought I would help you by changing the subject even more.”

"Maybe that's what I'm doing, or maybe I'm doing it because I want you to understand my mistakes before reliving them yourself. If you are going to repeat every single one of them we may have a problem winning the war we just started."

" I'm not sure if you are trying to say that I'm dense, or you are."

They stared at each other for a few moments before they both cracked into a smirk.

“Anyway, I’d better go on deciding the turns of night watch.” Said then Silver, starting to pull away from his tree. “ I saw some men are resting right now, I guess I could use them.”

He walked away, waving one hand in farewell, headed toward the center of the village, but didn’t do more that twenty steps when suddenly he froze, left leg up, body rigid. He stood there a handful of seconds and then he spun around and walked back to where Flint was.  
He had a strange expression on his face, completely different from the ones he wore during all of their previous conversation.  
He opened and closed his mouth a few times before speaking.

"Something strange just happened." Flint frowned. "I was obviously thinking about our conversation just now, about how being needed by the men can become a double-edged sword, and I couldn't stop shacking away the sensation of a previous conversation about something similar, a conversation we never had."

Silver was watching him expectantly, but also with calculation, wanting to see what Flint would say and ready to examine the answer to that statement, and Flint himself while saying it.

Flint tried not to change expression. He knew exactly what Silver was referring to; he himself, being the topics they just discussed somewhat similar to those they talked about months before, hadn't been able to keep away from his mind Silver's confession of feelings. Feelings that, due to recent events, couldn't anymore be referred to as hatred. After all of the last months' developments he was certain that it could only be taken for a confession of feelings as in the most common way to use the phrase.

More so, Flint was acutely aware that the circumstances of the confession, if ever discovered by Silver, could bring a sentiment of betrayal because that declaration had come too soon in their forming relationship to be said candidly, and in a moment when the man wasn't lucid. Even if, after that, Flint had indeed opened up to Silver with his own secrets, the difference of conceding them only when ready and possessing all of his faculties was a substantial one. Even more so because the situation regarded normally distrustful man like Silver and himself.

He used all of his willpower to keep his expression neutral, with an hint of perplexity, when he answered.  
"Our conversation reminded you of one we never had?" He imperceptibly raised an eyebrow.

Silver watched him intently for a few moments. "Yes, what we said, to need people, me bonding too much with the men, me depending on them. I think remember something about..." 

Flint saw the instant it hit him. The realization in his eyes, the few moments of staring blankly in front of him, like he could see the two of them in his cabin talking right before his eyes, that he squinted before opening them real big.

He gave him a look that could only be described as betrayed, turned again toward the camp and limped away as fast as possible with the uneven ground under his peg leg.

Flint watched him go, knowing that this could be the start of a serious problem, but still hoping that it wouldn't be the beginning of that clash between them prophesied by Silver a few nights before.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure this is what the prompt was really about, but it's what came out, sorry Prouvaireafterdark for ruining it.  
> I'm [LylVanDam](http://lylvandam.tumblr.com/) on tumblr if you want to tell me just how much I screwed up, or just normal feedback is fine I guess.
> 
> I think it will be a three parts fic, we'll see...


End file.
